Tryst
by Pagan Ianthe
Summary: It's the fifth anniversary of the end of the war and the ball brings two unsuspecting Hogwarts alumni together. They have little to say, but there is no telling where one dance will lead.
1. The Ballroom

**Disclaimer:** These characters are not mine; they are the property of JK Rowling, her respective publishers and Warner Bros. I make no money from this story.

* * *

 **Tryst**

The first thing he noticed about her was the confident way she walked into the room as though she didn't care if anyone noticed her or didn't.

The second thing he noticed about her was the curve of her breasts as she slipped the over-robe off and handed it to the house-elf, leaning down to thank the small creature quietly; the dress she was wearing fit her like a very tight glove and he couldn't help but gulp when he realised that it was cut incredibly low at the front.

It was the third thing he noticed that had him walking over and pulling her into his arms for a dance; the moment she turned around and he saw the way the dress showed him the delicate arch of her spine, the golden tan from hours of sunbathing – no, there were no tan lines where a bra strap should be – and a stunning butterfly tattoo so low on her back that it was almost indecent.

He tugged her close, holding her solidly against him when the music switched to a pulsing Tango and stifling a groan when she wrapped one shapely leg around his and allowed him to take the lead in a dance that quickly cleared the small floor.

He was breathless when the music changed to a more sedate and sensible Waltz and dull applause pulled him out of the sensual haze that her pliant and supple body had pulled him into.

Leading her off the dance floor he dragged her into an alcove and, without any preamble, took her lips in a kiss that stole his breath.

"Wow," she managed as she pulled away, her dark grey eyes wide as she studied him carefully, a small smile tilting the corners of her mouth. He found that he couldn't look away as she studied him intently; taking in as much as she could. "You're Marcus, aren't you? One of Draco's friends?" Her voice was breathy and so quiet he had to lean in to hear her, but he didn't mind, the closer he was to her the less he focused on the strangely over-excited beating of his heart in his chest.

"I wouldn't go quite that far," he murmured against her neck as he rubbed his nose against her and then licked his way from her collarbone to the tiny diamond stud in her ear, sucking the tiny jewel into his mouth before releasing it and whispering against her skin. "I would like to be your friend, though."

Stifling the groan that wanted to escape at his words, Luna speared her fingers through his hair and tugged him down for another consuming kiss, her mouth opening against his, her tongue teasing against his closed lips before he returned the kiss, his hands easily spanning her waist, tugging her closer until her body was plastered against his; barely room for a galleon between them.

A breathless sigh escaped her as he backed her up against the wall in the silent shadows, out of sight of the rest of the ballroom. Little was said as he slid his hands up under the many layers of her long skirt and lifted her, silently urging her to wrap her legs around his waist. He was unable to hide his surprise when he realised that she wasn't wearing any knickers, a grunt of approval leaving his lips even as he rubbed the ridge of his erect cock against her through his trousers.

"They ruined the line of the dress," she sighed, her eyes closing as the line of buttons on his fly rubbed against her in a way that sent a few fireworks off in her head.

"Thank Merlin for that," he told her gruffly, his words a puff of warm air against her cleavage, his stubble rough against her creamy skin.

Luna dug the fingers of one hand into Marcus' left shoulder, the other arm stretched over her head, wrapped about the column at her back.

Ignoring the noise at his back, aware that they could be seen at any moment and their idyll disrupted, Marcus hurriedly unsnapped the buttons of his fly; a moan of relief leaving him as the rigid length of his cock was freed. He could feel the wet heat of her against his naked flesh and wanted nothing more than to feel her surround him.

A normally restrained and controlled man – he couldn't afford to be anything less than absolutely focused when flying hundreds of metres above the ground in all weathers – he had no control over his desires at that moment. With his hands supporting her slender thighs – he had no doubt his fingers would leave their mark – he nudged the tip of his cock against her, rolling his hips until she began to shift against him, her body moving downwards until he could feel her walls clamping down around him.

He thought he was in heaven; he couldn't hear the noise of the ball behind him, the rush of blood in his head loud enough to drown out the chatter of the hundreds gathered to mark the fifth anniversary of the end of the war. Right now all he cared about was the woman pressing her breasts against his chest; her breathy moans like a symphony, the faint glow of sweat on her forehead as she advanced towards what he hoped would be an explosive climax. His blood was roaring in his veins and his arms were trembling as he thrust into her passionately; the determination to hold out for as long as it took to bring her to hear peak the only thing holding him back from the need to push harder, higher. He could feel the butterfly flutter of her around him as she tightened her hold on his hips, the nails of one hand digging into his shoulder as she let out a silent scream, tears rolling down her cheeks at the relief of her release.

Finally able to breathe again, Luna opened her eyes and shifted slightly, wrapping both arms around Marcus' neck and tightening her legs around his hips. She leaned forward a little and pressed a trail of kisses from the corner of his lips to the whorl of his ear, nibbling on the sensitive lobe. She raised herself from him with a strength that would normally impress him for other reasons, and then lowered herself onto him with a moan, "You can let go now, Marcus," she whimpered, grinning when he took this as permission; he growled even as he guided her movements, thrusting into her so deeply that her breath caught in her throat for a moment. Not long after her surrender, he shuddered against her and rested his face in the curve of her neck; breathing in the heady scent of her, and sex.

Feeling a little breathless Luna took her time to loosen her legs from around his hips; straightening her skirt, and taking a moment to fuss with her hair she waited while he redressed then slipped her small hand into his larger one and pulled him back to the main ballroom.


	2. The Club

**Disclaimer:** These characters are not mine; they are the property of JK Rowling, her respective publishers and Warner Bros. I make no money from this story.

From the front her dress looked as though it could be worn by a society matron; high-neck, cut so that it fell to the floor in a flattering line. He could see the curve of her breasts and the jut of her hips as she rocked them from side to side in time with the thumping bass.

He felt like he'd been punched in the gut when she turned around and he noticed the fact that this 'sensible' dress was not sensible at all. Half of him wanted to go over and cover her with his jacket, the other half wanted nothing more than to drag her into one of the darkened booths that surrounded the dance floor and press his lips to her skin and follow the curve of her spine with his tongue.

His fist tightened around the bottle of beer in his hand when he saw one of the boys with her slip an arm around her waist, his hand stroking the bare skin of her back, Marcus didn't even flinch when the glass broke sending beer splattering on the floor and soaking into the denim of his jeans.

A low growl escaped his lips as he stormed over to stand behind Luna; with a mere quirk of one dark brow the boy who had been touching Luna quickly moved away, giving Marcus the opportunity to place one proprietary hand on the back of her neck. "You've been avoiding me, Princess," he murmured in her ear as he stroked a roughly callused finger over the naughty butterfly occasionally fluttering on the enticing curve of her arse. He couldn't help but enjoy the way that she leaned back against him and wriggled until he groaned low in his throat.

He picked up one of the half-full glasses on the nearby counter and downed it in a single gulp before leaning forward and brushing a light kiss to the sensitive skin behind her ear, then breathing on the damp flesh until she let out a quiet whimper.

"Can you believe that they didn't call foul on that move Harcourt pulled the other day?" One of the boys that Marcus could barely remember commented while at the same time summoning one of the suggestively dressed waitresses.

"You could see that he and Wilson were trying to pull a Porskoff, but Wilson was in the wrong place and Harcourt ended up doing a haversack instead. The Catapults were just lucky that the ref had recorded the play and didn't come down on them too badly." Luna contributed, grinning when a couple of her friends nodded in agreement.

Marcus realised that he had never been more turned on than he was at that moment, most girls could feign an interest in Quidditch, but he could hear the interest in her tone. Ignoring her friends he leaned forward and brushed his lips across her earlobe, "Come with me," he whispered. The words were a rumble against her neck, and he was unable to prevent the satisfied smile from crossing his lips when she visibly trembled at the sensation of his warm breath on her skin. He wrapped an arm around her waist and tugged her back until the length of her body was rubbing against his and she could feel how much he wanted her.

Luna gave an almost imperceptible nod and, ignoring the knowing grins from her friends, she allowed Marcus to lead her away. He slung a heavy arm around her shoulders and wrapped a tendril of her hair around his fingers as he guided her to a darkened corner booth set up for the club VIWs.

With a flick of his wand he closed and secured the curtains around the booth, making the already dark area even more intimate, the sounds from the club still penetrated the heavy velvet and the bright crystal chandelier on the main floor cast a soft glow into their hideaway.

Luna leaned back on the supple leather sofa, her head resting on the curved cushioned back and studied him, her silver eyes studying his every move intently. Marcus grinned when he noticed her suck in a sharp breath and he realised she was a little nervous. He moved to sit behind her and then leaned over to lick a damp trail along the visible bumps in her spine, exactly as he had been imagining since she turned around in the dress. "Did you wear this for me," he asked, when he had finished his exploration of every inch of her bare back.

"I borrowed it from Ginny," Luna whispered, her eyelids slowly closing when Marcus' lips closed around her earlobe and he sucked it into his mouth.

"I like it," he told her as he made quick work of the single button holding the more demure front in place. He reached around and cupped her breasts in his hands, his roughened thumbs brushing over her nipples, bending his head to nibble on bare skin of one golden-tanned shoulder.

She shrugged her shoulders and turned her head slightly to brush her lips across the sharp line of his jaw. "I figured someone would," she told him, enjoying the way that his jaw tightened and his eyes sparked with a flash of jealousy.

He stifled a chuckle at the obvious way she was trying to make him jealous; secure in the knowledge that he clearly wanted her, "Did you know I was going to be here?" The bar was a well-known hangout for many of the league teams when they were in town for tournament games; and now that he knew she wasn't a Quidditch virgin he was sure she was aware of the various team habits.

She shrugged again, and looked at him through her lashes, attempting to look demure, though the slight tilt to her lips gave her away, "I didn't really give it any thought."

Sucking in a frustrated breath, Marcus used her distraction as a chance to push her dress down around her waist, and shoved one hand beneath the material, dipping it under the elasticated hem of her panties.

As he stroked one thick finger through her curls, enjoying the sensation of her clit as it swelled under his touch, he continued to talk to her, his voice gruff against her ear; "I love how wet you are for me…" he rubbed his forefinger along the slick lips of her pussy before pushing gently inside. She arched up against him as he teased her, thrusting and then quickly withdrawing his finger again and again until she was a gasping puddle of nerves against him. "Would you be quiet if I fucked you right now? Or would you moan…" she moaned as he pressed his thumb firmly on her clit whilst thrusting his finger inside her a little deeper. "Yes, just like that." He swallowed back a moan of his own when she moved an arm between them, behind her back, and deftly undid the buttons of his fly, slipping her hand inside his trousers to wrap around his pulsing cock. "Fuck, I want to feel your cunt around me so badly," he growled in her ear even as her hand tightened around his length and she began to deftly stroke her hand up and down, her blunt thumbnail teasing the tip of his dick until his eyes almost crossed. Shaking his head to get rid of the fog he continued to touch her, spreading the dark pink lips of her pussy and teasing her until she was writhing against him, her moans were fuelling the fire of their lust until he couldn't think of anything other than tugging her into his lap and thrusting up inside her until she whimpered.

"Oh Merlin," she moaned when a second callused finger joined the first and she tipped over the edge for the first time; gasping for breath. Marcus slowly slid his fingers from inside her, and grinned against the curve of her throat when she shuddered. He was surprised when she turned her head and sucked his slick fingers into her mouth, her tongue licking him clean of her own honeyed juices.

"Come here," he told her, even as he was helping her to turn around, relieved that there was a slit along the side of the skirt that appeared to have been designed with this in mind. He tugged her into his lap, and couldn't help but smile when she raised herself on her knees and made quick work of his shirt, using a nifty bit of wandless magic to slice the front so that she could push it off his shoulders. With the buttons on the cuffs still fastened he found himself unable to move his hands higher than her hips and she didn't appear to be in a hurry to help him. Her eyes meeting his squarely, she wrapped one small hand around his cock, angled her hips and then sank down onto him with a quiet groan.

Hating the fact that he had somehow managed to lose control and wanting nothing more than to curve his hands around the firm cheeks of her arse and guide her as she continued to ride him, her naked breasts rubbed against the dark hair on his chest. "I like doing this with you," she informed him very matter-of-factly as she raised herself up on her knees and then slammed back down, forcing a grunt of pleasure from his throat.

"Have you heard of tantra?" she asked him as she continued to rock against him. "One of the people who come into the café says that it can…Oh…" He could see that she was close to coming apart; this woman did something to him, and he wasn't sure that he actually liked it, though right now he didn't actually care.

Luna was still babbling, and he found it strangely enchanting. "I like the way that your cock fills me," she whispered in his ear, her warm breath sending a shiver down his spine. She rolled her hips the way that she had on the dancefloor when she was dancing with her friends and Marcus felt his control snap; he barely heard the loud rip as the back seam of his shirt tore and his hands were free. He grabbed her hips and firmly guided her, pulling her down and thrusting upwards until he felt the fluttering of her pussy as it clasped at his cock.

Luna was a nymph, a creature of pure abandon and Marcus couldn't look away as her climax hit and she flung her head back; a perfect straight line of glistening flesh that he had a strange desire to taste. He stroked his tongue across her skin, tasting the salty tang of sweat, then sucked on the flesh at the point where neck and shoulder met, grinning smugly when he released it with a pop and he could easily see the dark purple mark he had left. "Perfect," he whispered as he thrust his hips forward and enjoyed the feeling of her still fluttering wildly around him.

Luna took her time in straightening her clothes and using a scourgify. "Do you want me to fix that?" she finally asked him after watching him trying to use a seamstress spell to neatly repair his obviously expensive shirt.

Marcus looked up; a little startled to find that she hadn't run off as she had done before. "I was never very good at fixing things," he told her, holding the shirt out for her to perform her magic on. "I'm a little bit too good at smashing things up," he grinned at his own pun.

"So why didn't you become a beater then? If you're so good at breaking stuff?" she looked up at him through her lashes, all the while focusing her magic on repairing the delicate threads, she couldn't help but admire the taut muscles across his shoulders and chest and she had to fight the temptation to do more than look; she wanted to touch, and lick and bite!

He shrugged; no one had ever thought to ask him that before, and the fact that someone he barely knew on anything more than an intimate level had threw him, "I honestly don't know. I just love to fly." And that was the truth; the feeling of the wind against his skin was the best high after sex!

"You look like an eagle," she told him, leaning forward to brush a light kiss across his cheek. "You are a lot of fun, Marcus Flint."

Before he had a chance to say anything else, though if he were being honest he had no idea what he actually wanted to say, she was gone, the dark velvet curtain dropping down behind her.


End file.
